i'M in Trouble
by thewerepuppy
Summary: Sam's in danger of being sent to military school if she doesn't finish her report. Will Carly and Freddie be able to make her concentrate in time? Please review if you want more!
1. Weekend plans are ruined

**First chapter of my first fanfic! I was really trying to work on the characters and make them believable (as they are on the show), so I hoped I did OK.**

**I don't own iCarly, but if I did...well that would be just swell.**

"What is _that_?" Freddie exclaimed, examining Spencer's latest attempt at an artwork.

"It's a terrier…made out of _lettuce_!" Spencer informed him proudly, "Can't you tell?"

"Um…oh yeah! I think I can see it now."

"Could you make an Alsatian out of ham?" Sam asked hopefully from where she lay sprawled across the couch.

"It's possible…" Spencer pondered.

Freddie sighed, "Ignore her, Spencer. All she ever thinks about is food."

"Hey!" Sam replied indignantly, "Is it _my_ fault if nobody feeds me?"

"I fed you an hour ago!" said Carly in mock annoyance, taking a break from her typing.

She had gotten used to her two friends hanging out at the apartment, whether she had work to do or not. She'd given up on keeping Sam out years ago, and with Freddie there at least the two of them could amuse themselves while she got stuff done. She just had to keep an eye out for any trouble between them…

"I don't know why we have her here, Carly," said Freddie, glaring at his nemesis.

Sam sat up and glared back, "What is _that_ supposed to mean, lettuce-breath?"

Spencer let out a gasp and pretended to cover his sculpture's 'ears', "I think that's my cue to leave," he decided. "I gotta take 'Salad Fido' to the art show. Will you be OK for a couple of hours, Carly?"

"Always am!" she replied, smiling at her brother as she sat next to Sam, ready to prevent any escalating arguments, "Got your cell?"

"Got it!" Spencer waved as he left.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the fight started up again.

"…All you do is come here whenever you feel like it, eat Carly's food and irritate me!" Freddie said, folding his arms as though he'd managed to prove something important.

"Well, all _you_ do is drool over Carly and act like a dork!" Sam retorted angrily.

"Children…" Carly warned before Freddie interrupted.

"At least I don't slack off at every opportunity!"

"Better than being a colossal geek at every opportunity!"

'_Where's my spray bottle…'_ wondered Carly.

"Well what use _are_ you? I mean, obviously Carly's the pretty and wonderful girl who has the great ideas…" he momentarily beamed at Carly before returning to his serious expression, "…and I'm the tech guy, but what are _you_? Carly's pet?"

Sam stared at him for a moment as the rage inside her began to bubble. She stood up slowly and Freddie's eyes widened before darting from side to side in an attempt to decide which way to run.

"Start runnin', Fredwart!" Sam growled.

However, before she had had the chance to chase him for more than a few seconds, Carly managed to catch her.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Hair! Hair! Hair!" she yelped as Carly dragged her to the couch and sat her back down. She attempted to get back up again, but Carly gave her a 'don't-you-dare' expression which made her stay put.

"…But the doof insulted me!" Sam protested.

Carly rolled her eyes, "Well that's one insult to your one thousand, isn't it?"

Sam mumbled sulkily, but reluctantly accepted Carly's point.

"Now, why don't you just watch some TV while I finish my report, hmm?"

Sam nodded, so Carly switched on some cartoons for her to watch before joining Freddie at the computer.

"You should know better than to wind her up, y'know," Carly said to him, keeping her voice low out of Sam's earshot.

"I know," Freddie sighed before whispering, "It's true, though."

"She's not a pet! She's just…irresponsible."

"So why are you friends with her?"

"Well _somebody's_ gotta keep her out of trouble! Besides, she's a good friend," she said fondly.

Freddie snorted, "If you say so. So, have you almost finished your report?"

"Kind of. I still have half a page to do, though. It should be finished before the weekend. How 'bout you?"

"Yeah, finished it yesterday. My mom always makes me start my homework the day I get it." Carly chuckled and Freddie looked at her huffily, "Well at least I have the weekend free too! Maybe we could…y'know…do something together?" he suggested, strategically moving his stool closer to Carly's.

He almost fell off it completely when Carly replied, "Awesome idea!" But his hopes were dashed when she called, "Hey Sam, do you wanna do something this weekend?"

"Such as…?"

"I don't know, just hang out somewhere with me and Freddie. We could film a day out and put it on iCarly."

"Sounds cool. Well, despite the part where Freddie comes too."

Freddie narrowed his eyes at her.

Carly grinned, "Awesome! So, have you finished your report?"

"What report?"

"The one for Ms. Briggs, of course."

Sam's eyes remained glued to the cartoon and she didn't reply. Immediately suspicious, Carly hopped off her stool and went to stand right beside her, hands on hips, eyebrows raised. After a few moments, Sam looked up at her and smiled sweetly.

"Hi Carly!"

"Please tell me you've started your report."

"…I've started my report."

Sam went back to watching TV as Carly folded her arms and frowned. "What was the report on?"

Sam laughed at the cartoon before Carly grabbed the remote and promptly switched off the TV. "Hey! I was watching tha –"

"– What was the report on, Sam?" Carly interrogated.

Sam looked up at her and smiled nervously, "…Bacon?"

"YOU HAVEN'T EVEN STARTED IT, HAVE YOU?!" Carly exploded at her to the point where Sam had to leap out of the way to avoid the wrath of Carly's rolled up magazine.

"Hey Carly…chillax!" Sam suggested worriedly when Carly managed to back her into a corner, magazine weapon in hand.

Freddie watched in amusement, munching some popcorn.

"I will not chillax!" Carly said, exasperated.

"Well it's not like it's _your_ report…" she reasoned, before Carly finally lost it and thumped her hard with the magazine. "OW! Yeesh, that really – "

"– Do you realise what Ms. Briggs is going to do to you if you don't hand in that report on Monday?"

"Bake me a cake? YOWCH!" Carly whacked her over the head yet again.

"She is going to murder you, then _expel_ you! Do you want that?"

"Well…if I was murdered _first_…then I suppose being expelled wouldn't be so bad!" she joked, before cowering as Carly threatened her with the magazine.

"This is _serious_, Sam!"

"Okay, okay…it's due Monday, right?"

"Right."

"And today is Thursday, right?"

"Sam, what are you –"

"– So that means that I have a whole day to do it before the weekend!" she said with a wide smile, as though all of her problems had been solved.

Carly just looked at her in disbelief, "Sam, it took me two _weeks_ to do that report! I had to read the book, do the research, type it all up…there is absolutely no way that you are going to be able to do it in three days."

"One day," Sam corrected. "I know you like your work to be all perfect before you hand it in, but I'm aiming for a C at best."

"You should always aim for an A!" Freddie interjected.

Sam rolled her eyes, "And who told you that? Your mom?"

"…Shut up," Freddie replied bluntly.

"Ooh, nice one, Freddo. Did your mommy – "

"– Rolled up magazine…" Carly sang as a reminder.

Still cornered, Sam sighed in defeat, "I'll be quiet."

"There's a good girl," Carly patted her.

"Hey Spence, how was the art show?" Carly asked as she appeared out of the elevator.

"Terrible," he responded flatly from the couch.

"Aw, how come?"

He pointed over to the counter where his sculpture stood, but it looked weird and deformed.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I don't know. He was crispy when I left! Now he's all soggy…I guess it was the Seattle air."

"Aw, I'm sorry about your soggy terrier."

"It's alright. How was your day?"

"Well, I finished my paper."

"Awesome, way to go!"

"But Sam hasn't started hers."

"Ah."

"Yeah, so is it cool if she stays over tomorrow night so I can help her study?"

"I don't see why not," Spencer nodded. "I'll just be working on my next sculpture."

"Which is?"

"A marshmallow meerkat for that new ice-cream parlour's grand opening."

"I see Well, good luck with that!"

"Thanks and good luck with…whatever it is you were doing!" said Spencer enthusiastically.

Carly said goodnight and began to make her way upstairs, pondering creative ways she could prevent her wayward friend from being expelled.

'_I'd rather try and sculpt a meerkat out of marshmallows…'_ she thought as she closed her bedroom door.


	2. Sam's got a problem

**Well, you wanted more, so here it is!**

**I don't own iCarly. But if I did, I'd tell Nickelodeon to bring back The Angry Beavers!**

"….So, that's how wi-fi works," concluded Freddie.

He and Sam were waiting in the school hallway for Carly to show up, and Freddie had tried to block the awkward silence between them by giving Sam a short history of wireless connectivity.

Sam, whose attention span was severely lacking at the best of times, had dozed off against a locker and was snoring softly.

Freddie sighed angrily once he had realised that his interesting information had been wasted. However, a sleeping Sam also meant a Sam without an attitude, so he could finally relax and wait for Carly.

For a swift moment he gazed at Sam and was surprised at how calm she looked when she was sleeping. _'If only she could stay that way in real life…'_ he thought.

"Hey, Freddie."

Freddie jumped when he heard Carly's voice behind him, but immediately greeted her with a grin. "Hi Carly! Wonderful day, isn't it?"

"I guess…" she began to put her books in her locker when she noticed Sam sleeping soundly, impressively still managing to stand up though she leant against the lockers,

Carly raised an eyebrow at Freddie.

"I liked her better that way," he explained with a shrug.

A twitch of a smile crossed Carly's face and without warning she slammed her locker shut.

"AARGH! NO MORE DANCING!" Sam yelled as she suddenly jolted awake, before rubbing her eyes as she joined her friends in reality.

Freddie stifled a laugh.

"Aw, did I wake you?" Carly asked in mock sympathy.

Sam muttered incoherently and the bell rang.

"C'mon," Freddie said as he picked up his laptop, "we don't wanna be late for Ms. Briggs' class."

"That we don't," agreed Carly.

"Yeah, but first I just need to –" Sam was about to head in the opposite direction when Carly grabbed her arm.

"–It's not optional, y'know, Sam!" she said matter-of-factly.

Sam groaned as the three of them entered the classroom and sat down.

"…So," continued Ms. Briggs, "if I said that walking to school was like climbing Mount Everest, what literary feature would I be using?" she asked.

The class sat in silence, most of them either staring at their shoes to avoid eye contact, or just writing secret notes to each other.

"Come on!" Ms. Briggs demanded, losing her temper, "One of you miscreants must know the answer!" she scanned the room in search of a target. "Gibby!"

Gibby, who had been picking chunks out of his eraser, looked as though he'd almost wet himself when he came under fire. "Y,y,y,yes, Ms. Briggs?" he stuttered timidly.

"If I said that walking to school was like climbing Mount Everest, what am I doing?" she repeated impatiently.

"Um…lying?" he guessed hopefully.

A few sniggers came from the rest of the class.

"Silence!" Ms. Briggs barked at them before lecturing Gibby about how not listening was a drain of everybody's time.

Carly suppressed a yawn as she rolled her pencil across the desk from one side to the other, trying to keep herself entertained as boredom washed over her.

She glanced up at Freddie, who oddly seemed to be drawing love-hearts in his notebook. Then she looked over at Sam, who rested her head and arms upon her desk, fast asleep yet again.

As Ms. Briggs finished her attack on Gibby and went back to hunting for more prey, Carly decided that it was in Sam's best interest to at least _look_ attentive.

With this in mind, she pulled the eraser of her pencil and hurled it at Sam's head.

"PANCAKES!" Sam jumped to attention, and Carly groaned as suddenly all eyes were on her best friend – including Ms. Briggs'.

Sam sank low into her chair, embarrassed.

"What was that, Miss Puckett?" inquired Ms. Briggs.

"…Um…" Sam shifted uncomfortably in her chair and looked at Carly, who just shrugged sympathetically.

Ms. Briggs mercilessly continued her advance, "Do you know the answer?"

"Well…er…that depends, doesn't it?"

"On what?" Ms. Briggs frowned.

Sam smiled sheepishly, "…On what the question was."

Freddie gulped as he watched the teacher's knuckles turning white as she clenched her fists in annoyance.

"So! _You_ weren't listening either!" she snapped, her voice gaining volume as she spoke.

As if on cue, the bell rang. Immediately everybody grabbed their notebooks and pens and stood up as quickly as they could, making a beeline for the exit.

"Oops! There goes the bell!" proclaimed Carly, trying to stop the glaring contest between Sam and Ms. Briggs, without much success. She looked at Freddie who wavered in the door way.

"Come _on_!" he hissed at her.

"Freddie, what if they start wielding chainsaws at each other or something?!" Carly hissed back.

"…Hyperbole!" Freddie exclaimed.

"…What?!"

"The answer to the question," he explained, before running off when Carly gave him a warning look.

"Saved by the bell. Lucky," Ms. Briggs commented.

"Indeed," Sam replied.

By now she and Carly were the only students left in the classroom, although Freddie waited just outside.

"So, how are you girls getting on with your reports on 'The Scottish Play'?" asked Ms. Briggs, clearly revelling in the Scottishness of the assignment. "Are you enjoying 'Macbeth'?"

"Oh! So _that's_ what the report's on!" Sam said, pleased with her realisation.

Carly stared at her open-mouthed before laughing a little too loudly, "Ha ha! Good one, Sam! She's just kidding, Ms. Briggs. We're both almost finished."

"Well, good," said Ms. Briggs, eyeing them suspiciously before looking pointedly at Sam, "because you know, this paper's worth 60 of your final grade and if you fail this class, it's expulsion for _you_!"

"Yeah, yeah," Sam yawned, before brightening slightly, "at least then I wouldn't have to come here every day!"

Again Carly laughed to cover her friend's tracks, although she jabbed Sam hard in the ribs with her elbow as a warning to keep her mouth shut.

"True," Ms. Briggs smiled slightly, "because you would be shipped straight off to military school. At least then I wouldn't have to put up with you anymore."

Military school?!" Sam spluttered.

"Good luck, girls!" Ms. Briggs beamed as she left the room.

For once, Sam was lost for words. Carly and Freddie looked at each other, concern on their faces.


	3. The Production

**Hello again, this is the third chapter of the story. Please review, it's always appreciated and it helps me improve!**

**I don't own iCarly. Some other dudes do.**

"I can't go to military school!" Sam exclaimed for about the seventh time since they'd got back to Carly's apartment. "I thought I was just going to get murdered and expelled!"

"Well, what did you think was going to happen if you got kicked out of school? That you'd just hang around here all day while me and Freddie had classes?" Carly asked pointedly.

"Well…"

Carly gave her a threatening glance.

"…No. I just…I don't know…" she groaned and sat down on the couch next to Freddie. She remained quiet for a few moments before saying, "Maybe military school won't be _that_ bad."

"Are you kidding?" Freddie snorted. "Think about it – you'd have to get up at 6am every single day, even on Saturdays, the only thing you'd get to eat would be oatmeal and bread, you'd have to do loads of exercise every day and, if you ever got into trouble which, let's face it, _you_ will, you'll have to do even _more_ exercise _and_ clean everybody's boots with your _toothbrush_!" he ended his rant and was momentarily pleased with himself for finally getting to Sam – until he saw the panic in her eyes.

"…I'd only get oatmeal and bread?" she asked meekly.

Carly put her arm around her friend's shoulder for comfort, "It's OK, Sam, we still have the weekend for you to start your report and we're here to help you. Right Freddie?"

"Right," Freddie nodded, slightly shocked at how upset Sam looked.

"So, have you read 'Macbeth'?" Carly asked hopefully.

Sam furrowed her eyebrows in thought, "Um…is that the one where everybody gets stranded on an island and crazy love triangles ensue?"

"That's 'The Tempest'!" Spencer yelled from the kitchen, his hands full of melted marshmallow.

"Oh…then is it the one where the two families hate each other but then two of them fall in love and stuff?"

Carly frowned, "Sam, that's 'Romeo and Juliet'!"

"Oh yeah. Well, then it's the to be or not to be one, right?"

"Um…that's 'Hamlet'," corrected Freddie.

"How many plays did this dude write?!" asked Sam in frustration.

"Thirty seven," said Spencer. Everybody turned to look at him and he shrugged. "What? I know stuff…"

"Sam, how do you know the stories of those other plays?" Carly asked since Sam pretty much confessed to never fully reading a book until Freddie's dare a few months back.

Sam shrugged, "I guess I just watch a lot of TV."

Carly smiled, finally beginning to see a turning point in what had pretty much been a day of misery for her best friend. "Then maybe you know 'Macbeth', but you just don't know it yet!"

Sam stared at Carly, then at Freddie, as both her friends seemed to latch onto the same idea and smiled to each other.

"Oooookay, I'm lost," she admitted, switching on the TV.

Carly snatched the remote off her and promptly switched it off again, "Listen, you big goof, we're trying to help you here!"

"Sorry…" Sam mumbled as her two friends stood in front of her.

"Hi, I'm Macbeth!" said Carly dramatically before looking at Freddie.

"Uh…and I'm Banquo!" he said, following Carly's lead as best he could.

"And we're bestest pals, even though I'm royalty!" said Carly, linking arms with Freddie.

"Looks like Banquet's a bit of a dork, to me," Sam commented from the 'audience'.

"It's _Banquo_!" Freddie snapped huffily.

"Whatev."

"Ooh, I _love_ amateur dramatics!" clapped Spencer, jumping onto the couch beside Sam as the play continued.

"Say, Banquo, I better go and speak to those three witches!" said Carly jauntily.

"Oh! Yeah, you do that," Freddie replied. He walked off-stage then promptly came back on again. "Uh, hi. I'm…the three witches."

Sam burst out laughing.

"Sir, there's clearly only one of you," Spencer noted.

"It's _ma'am_," said Freddie in character, and then Sam was in stitches. "_Carly_!" Freddie protested, angry and embarrassed.

"C'mon Freddie. Just play along!"

"Fine…" he grumbled before composing himself, "…well, we think you should go and kill King Duncan…and why do you get to be Macbeth, anyway?!"

"Kill Duncan, you say? But he's always been nice to _me_! I think I should ask my wife, Lady Macbeth," Carly smiled at Freddie.

"Oh _come_ _on_!" he growled.

"This is getting good!" remarked Spencer with a grin.

"Alright, alright…" Freddie gave in after Carly fluttered her eyelashes at him, "…I'm Lady Macbeth," he said in monotone, trying to ignore Sam's laughter.

"Do _you_ think I should kill Duncan?"

"Go for it," he replied flatly.

"I don't know…"

"Seriously, just murder the guy."

"Alright!" Carly waited a beat, then looked at Freddie again. "Hi, Duncan!"

Freddie rolled his eyes as Carly pretended to stab him and said with no emotion whatsoever, "Oh no, you have slain me."

"Nice one, Macbeth!" cheered Sam.

Carly and Freddie continued to act out the rest of the play until Carly proclaimed, "The end!" and they bowed.

"That was awesome!" Spencer praised animatedly.

"I was entertained," smiled Sam, looking at Freddie with an odd gleam in her eyes.

"Shut up," glared Freddie, before she could say anything else.

"Well, I guess I better finish off my marshmallow meerkat," Spencer sighed, wandering back to the kitchen, where his gooey sculpture stood, half complete,

"Can we eat it when you're done?" asked Sam hopefully.

"No!" said Spencer. "Well…at least not until he's been to the ice-cream parlour.

"Can _we_ go to the ice-cream parlour?" Sam looked at Carly.

"No we cannot!" she replied, disguising a laugh at her food-obsessed friend. "Besides, I think it's time you said goodnight. You've got a big day ahead of you, and it's past your bedtime."

Sam chuckled as she lay back on the couch, her feet resting on the coffee table. "I don't have a bedtime."

"You do in this house, young lady," asserted Carly, having fun playing 'mother'.

"But Carly, I – "

Carly grabbed a magazine from the coffee table and began to roll it up, and Sam almost fell over in her haste to get to the stairs. "Well, I suppose I _am_ kinda tired," she said, safely out of range.

Freddie smiled at her sarcastically, before adopting a high-pitched voice and saying, "Nightly night, Sam!"

"You too, Freddie," Carly said to him, a mock-stern expression across her face.

"Funny, Carly," he smiled.

"No. Seriously," Carly said, before playfully hitting Freddie with the magazine until he was forced to retreat to the front door.

"Aw, c'mon, Carly!" he whined, wanting to stay in her company as long as he could.

"Goodnight, Freddie," said Carly gently as she closed the door behind him.

"Way to ditch the nerd!" Sam said approvingly from her position half way up the stairs. "So, what are we – "

"–BED!" Carly repeated forcefully, wielding the magazine.

"I'm gone!" Sam shot up the stairs.

"Are you off to bed too, Carls?" Spencer asked.

Carly nodded, "Yeah, I suppose I'm going to have to get up pretty early."

"Sleep well! I'd hug you but…" he displayed his marshmallowy hands to her. "I'm hugging you in spirit," he decided.

"Spirit hugs to you too, Spence," Carly smiled before heading upstairs.


	4. We need you

**OK, so here we are in Chapter 4! It's just a fluffy bit of conversation really. Sorry it's so short, but I felt I needed a bit of a bridge before the next Chapter!**

**Oh yeah, and I STILL don't own iCarly...**

"So? What do you want to talk about?"

Carly responded to the question with an arched eyebrow as she looked down at her best friend. She lay in her bed while Sam was stretched out on a spare mattress, half covered by a fleece blanket.

"What do you mean?" Carly replied, putting down the book she'd been reading.

"Well, whenever I stay the night, we always end up talking about something before we go to sleep. So, what do you want to talk about?" Sam asked again, gazing up at Carly.

"Hmm…" Carly pretended to think hard, "perhaps we should discuss how it would be a good idea if we both went to bed early this time?" she suggested.

"Not tired," Sam dismissed her idea bluntly, "I was thinking more…what colour do you think dinosaurs _really_ were. Because nobody knows for sure."

"Blue," sighed Carly before reversing Sam's change of subject, "now come on, because you've got to spend all day writing your report tomorrow, and I've got to spend all day making you."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Chillax, Carls. I'm sure it'll all work out in the end," she said simply.

Carly looked at her. Her best friend since they were little. The laidback attitude that she adopted whenever she wanted Carly to stop worrying wasn't working this time. It only made anxiety build up in her mind, and a frown involuntarily formed on her brow.

"What if it doesn't work out, Sam? What if you do get sent to military school?"

"I won't."

"But what if you do!"

Sam sighed huffily, irritated that her attempt at starting a conversation had led to a thoroughly awkward situation. "Well…you'll still be able to do iCarly without me," she said quietly.

"You know me and Freddie would never do that!"

"You're right; it would be waaaaay less amusing without me."

"You're darn right it would!"

They both tried to laugh, but the reality of the possible situation stopped them. Again, Carly glanced at her childhood friend, who gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling, her hands behind her head.

"You can't go," Carly said aloud. Sam looked at her quizzically as she added, "We need you."

For a moment they just looked at each other blankly, both unsure what to say. This possibility of their friendship ending hurt both of them. Carly could tell that Sam, who normally liked to keep the atmosphere light with her wit, was struggling to cope with her feelings about this difficult situation. Therefore, she decided to continue to honour the fact that their friendship was based on humour and fun.

"Anyway," she smiled, "you'd never survive without me."

"I would too!" Sam snapped indignantly.

Carly laughed, "And who would be there to make sure you stay out of trouble and prevent you from eating food that's past its sell-by-date?"

"I'd find somebody else," Sam sniffed.

"And who would put up with you?" Carly grinned, before skilfully avoiding the cushion Sam threw at her – practice makes perfect.

"Well you _need_ me," said Sam, slightly annoyed that she hadn't managed to hit her target.

"How'd you work that one out?!"

"Who else is so funny and entertaining? _Freddie_?"

"Aw, you know you love him!" Carly hurled the cushion back at her and, when it landed on Sam's face, she couldn't help but giggle.

"Yeah, well I guess I'll just have to find somebody else to torture," said Sam, half-heartedly throwing the cushion back, and purposefully ignoring Carly's insinuation that she liked Freddie more than she let on.

Carly caught the cushion and threw it back again. "Well you won't have to find a replacement so long as you go to sleep right now!" she raised her voice slightly, but kept her smile.

"I already told you, I'm not tired," yawned Sam.

"Then I'll read to you until you fall asleep," said Carly, picking up the book from her bedside table. She cleared her throat and began to read, "'Macbeth', by William Shakespeare." She glanced up to see if Sam was listening, only to find her fast asleep. "Typical…" she whispered to herself.

However, she was glad that Sam had finally given up her battle to stay awake. Hopefully it would give her a fighting chance in the war against distraction that she was bound to face tomorrow. Carly knew that Sam could produce some intelligent work when she wanted to, it was just a matter of keeping her concentration firmly on track.

She got up to turn off the light, and covered Sam with the fleece blanket as she did so. When she crawled back into bed, she heard Sam murmur, "G'night, Carly."

She smiled and replied, "Goodnight, Sam."


	5. Concentrate!

**Well, today's the day that Sam actually has to start doing some work...but will she? I don't know. Well...I do, but you don't. So go! Read!**

**Oh yeah, and I STILL don't own iCarly. Unless you know something I don't. I also don't own the brand of donuts I have mentioned...**

Next morning Carly had woken up, courtesy of her alarm clock, at 7:00am exactly. It had taken another ten minutes for Sam to get up, as she had blatantly refused to leave her comfy position until after a few mild threats from Carly and the promise of bacon for breakfast.

By the time they had both gotten ready and eaten their food, it was almost 8:00am. Carly decided it was time to sit Sam down and discuss the situation. Sam decided to look bored and uninterested as she did so.

"…So, you now know the story of 'Macbeth' since me and Freddie reminded you," said Carly. "Correct?"

"Correct," Sam responded with an over-the-top nod.

"And you know the title of the paper and what you have to write about?"

"I do."

"So…what are you going to write about?" Carly decided to ask to make sure Sam genuinely knew what she was doing.

"'Macbeth'," replied Sam simply.

"…Um…good enough. Now, let's get you typing!"

Carly led Sam over to the computer and opened a Word document for her as Sam sat on one of the stools and cracked her knuckles in anticipation.

Luckily, Spencer had decided to put the unfinished the marshmallow meerkat sculpture in his room in the early hours of the morning – partly because he didn't want to be disturbed as he finished it, and partly because he was concerned that Sam's snacking habits may very well lead to its demise.

"Right, I've typed the title for you, so you're all set!" explained Carly before she walked to the couch.

Sam twisted round to see where she had gone and asked, "What are you going to be doing while I'm stuck here in homework hell?"

"Well, I figured I would start my history reading," she replied.

"Sounds riveting…"

Carly smiled at her friend's trademark sarcasm, but didn't speak. She knew that entering into a conversation meant that Sam wouldn't be doing work, so she kept quiet.

Sam watched Carly for a while, but soon lost interest when all she did was read. So, she took a deep breath and began to type.

She'd barely completed a sentence, when there was a knock on the door and Freddie appeared.

"Morning, Carly!" he greeted emphatically.

"Morning Freddie," she replied.

"Morning, Sam," he greeted less emphatically.

"Morning, Doof," she replied.

Carly put down her book. "So, what are you doing here so early?"

"Well, I figured since you weren't doing anything this weekend, maybe we could work on a few ideas for iCarly," he suggested, a dumb smile on his face as he gazed at her.

Carly smiled back, albeit not as sincerely. "I'd like to, Freddie, but I've got to make sure Sam finishes her report…I don't hear typing, by the way!" she looked pointedly at Sam, who had been watching the conversation with varying degrees of interest. Sam sighed and went back to work.

Freddie grumbled as he plonked himself down next to Carly, putting down a large binder on the coffee table.

"What's that for?" Carly asked, looking at it curiously.

"It's my ideas file. I use it for all my thoughts for the show, so I don't forget them."

Sam snorted and repeated "'Ideas file'…" in a comical voice.

Freddie glared at her. "At least I _do_ work!" he snapped.

"Well I suppose to be as much of a geek as _you_ are, you do have to put the hours in," she smirked.

"You know what, Sam? I hope you _do_ get sent to military school," Freddie growled, his temper growing, "maybe you'd benefit from some obedience training."

Sam looked at him and replied coolly, "At least _then_ I wouldn't have to look at your stupid Freddie face again."

"That's _enough_!" Carly intervened angrily, looking at both of her friends with disapproval. "Sam, do your report! Freddie…" she trailed off, in search of a solution. "…I suppose we could go over to your house for a little while and go through your ideas."

Freddie's glum face brightened immediately, "Really? Awesome!"

"Every dork has his day…" Sam muttered to the computer monitor – although she made sure that Freddie heard her.

"That's 'Hamlet'," he said before looking at Carly, "But why my house? You know what my mom's like."

"I don't want Sam to get distracted," she explained. "You'll get more work done if it's quiet, won't you, Sam?"

"I guess…"

"Then it's a date!" grinned Freddie, standing up with Carly.

"No it isn't," said Carly and Sam in unison as Freddie retrieved his file.

"I'll check up on what you've done later," Carly assured Sam, "so no slacking off!"

"Whatev."

With that, Carly and a gleeful Freddie left the apartment, and Sam was alone.

…**A journey into Sam Puckett's mind…**

_8:15 – 'Right, I suppose I'd better get this report out of the way! But I guess I could just check the iCarly message boards for a while…_

_8:37 – 'Yikes, how is that the time? Back to 'Macbeth'. Macbeth was Scottish…Scottish people eat haggis…I wonder what haggis tastes like?...No, no, no, Sam, do the report! Right, what makes Macbeth kill Duncan? Maybe because he has a stupid name. Duncan…Duncan…Dunkin'…Dunkin' Donuts…Man, am I hungry!'_

_8:49 – 'I can't believe I ate that entire ham! Totally worth it. Anyway, back to 'Macbeth'. What are the themes of the play? Let's see…betrayal, murder, envy...where's that magazine of Carly's? Ah, there…yup, betrayal, murder, envy…maybe these celebrities read 'Macbeth'. Hmm…if I hide this, Carly won't be able to whack me upside the head…'_

_8:54 – 'AARGH! Why do we have to do this stupid assignment?!'_

_8:56 – 'Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID!'_

_8:58 – 'School is so suckish.'_

_9:00 – 'Why is Christmas so far away?'_

_9:04 – 'No. Concentrate. 'Macbeth'. Shakespeare. Work.'_

_9:05 – ''Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock…''_

…**Back to reality…**

By quarter past nine, Sam was simply staring into space. She jumped when the front door suddenly opened, and Carly appeared.

"Sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to break your concentration," she apologised.

"What? Oh, yeah, concentratin'. Yup, I've been concentratin' all morning!"

Carly smiled at her as she walked over, "So, how much did you get done while I was gone?"

Sam froze for a moment, but hoped her friend hadn't noticed as she replied, "Oh, a page at _least_!"

"Awesome," Carly nodded approval. "Can I see it?"

"See what?" Sam asked, switching off the monitor.

"Your report, dummy!"

"Oh. Um…no."

"What? Why not?"

"…Because! Because…that…would be cheating!" Sam declared eventually, pleased with her believable excuse.

Carly narrowed her eyes. She was used to Sam's diversionary tactics. "How would it be cheating?" she enquired. "I already finished mine, remember?" She grabbed her report from the counter and waved it at her friend. "See? I even put it in a pretty binder?"

At this revelation, Sam gave her a look. "You, my friend, have been spending waaaaaay too much time with Freddie."

"Sam, just let me see your report!" said Carly, beginning to lose her patience and reaching for the monitor.

Sam blocked her with ease. "Seriously Carls, I…um…I don't want you to see it until it's _absolutely_ perfect," she babbled quickly.

Carly raised an eyebrow.

Sam smiled innocently.

Carly sighed. "Oh, alright. If you _really_ don't want me to see it…" She pretended to give in and watched Sam relax under the delusion that she was off the hook.

That done, she calmly pressed a button on the keyboard, so quickly that Sam was completely oblivious to what she had done.

Then the printer started up.

"What's that?" Sam's eyes widened as Carly sauntered across the room to the printer.

"Fax," she replied, smiling sweetly.

"Oh," said Sam, although she didn't completely let her guard down.

What followed were a few peaceful moments as Sam stared at the blank monitor, unsure what do, and Carly read the printout as she stood by the TV, a few feet behind her.

Sam gulped nervously before eventually asking, ""So, who's the fax from?"

Carly tactfully remained silent until Sam was forced to turn and look at her. Then she momentarily feigned a smile before saying, "Let's see, shall we?" She cleared her throat, "'Macbeth Assignment' by Sam Puckett."

Sam groaned as she listened to the inevitable.

Carly showed no mercy and continued to read, "'Macbeth was a Scottish dude who probably wore a skirt. Lady Macbeth was also Scottish. So the play was set in Scotland'." Carly glanced up at her friend, who fidgeted nervously, before reading the final sentence; "'There are probably bagpipes'. _This_ is what you've written in the last _hour_?!" she exclaimed.

Sam avoided Carly's accusatory eyes as she quietly quipped. "It's only a first draft…"

"It's not even a first _paragraph_!" Carly snapped, waving the paper in a gesture of annoyance. Sam looked at her feet and Carly sighed, yet again. "Sam, you are going to have to take this seriously!"

"I know…"

"If you don't pass, you're outta here!"

"I know…"

"There will be no ham!"

"…I know…"

"So, you're going to start again now, yes?" Carly half asked, half demanded.

Sam nodded glumly, switching on the monitor and practically dragging her body round to face the screen, before reluctantly deleting what she had previously typed.

"Now, I'm just going back to Freddie's for half an hour," Carly informed her, before correcting herself with, "_less_ than half an hour. And in that time you'd better have written ten sentences. Is that fair?"

"I suppose…" Sam mumbled.

"Good," Carly smiled and headed towards the door, "because if you _haven't_ written ten sentences by the time I come back, there _are_ going to be consequences."

Sam frowned and looked at her, puzzled. "Like what?"

"Let's not find out, hmm? Suggested Carly, still smiling – now in quite an unnerving way – before she closed the door.

Sam looked at the empty Word document and groaned.


	6. Intermission: You Choose

**OK, OK, no this particular story hasn't been updated for AGES, but I do wanna finish it at some point, I do have a soft spot for it. Since it's been over a year on this one, I'm opening it up for some interactivity. Basically over time I did come up with some scenarios, but choosing one has become decidedly difficult. Hence, it's over to you guys for a bit of an inspiration boost!**

**Also since the site has grown in iCarly fics since this was written, maybe I'll get some fresh input. Feel free to check out my story so far, or just read this synopsis.**

**So, so far Ms. Briggs has threatened Sam with military school unless she manages to finish her English assignment on 'Macbeth', and her concentration so far sucks. While Carly and Freddie went to do some work for iCarly, Sam has done no work whatsoever on her assignment. Angry and frustrated, Carly has told her that there will be consequences if she does not write 10 paragraphs in the next 30 minutes. **

**So, write me a comment or a PM telling me which of the following scenarios you would prefer to play out, or even suggest your own if you're feeling particularly creative today, although remember that, as the writer, I need a little creative freedom too. Which ever one has the most votes/creativity by the end of the week is the one I will write next week! Simple.**

Option A: Not wanting to disappoint Carly again, Sam decides that it's a good idea to find a decent Macbeth essay on the internet and change it just enough that it will pass as her own work. Carly is so impressed that she posts the essay on her iCarly blog to show it off, but soon receives an email from the actual author of the original essay (probably someone from the iCarlyverse and I'm sure you can guess the likely character) who threatens to take legal action against the site for copyright infringement. Not only will this leave the gang with a dilemma, but it will also mean that Sam STILL hasn't written her essay.

Option B: Realising the hopelessness of the situation, Sam decides the best thing to do is to pretend to be ill in the hope that both Carly and Ms. Briggs will let her off the hook. However, this completely backfires when she over-plays the illness and an overly concerned Mrs. Benson gets involved. Hilarity is very likely to ensue.

Option C: Carly returns to find that Sam's 10 sentences are, well, awful. Sam argues that at least she has done SOME work, but Carly is disappointed and thus puts into action her 'consequences'. As in 'iSpeed Date', Sam calls her bluff and decides that nothing she could do would force her into spending any more time in homework hell, (especially now that the rolled up magazine has been taken care of) but Carly has learnt from her mistakes. In time the Shay kitchen is officially closed to abrasive blondes, and Freddie and Carly spend all day driving Sam mad until she gives in and does the work. Again hilarity is expected.

**So those are your options so far. I've deliberately avoided any ideas that directly relate to any sort of shipping (and believe me, I had a few!), because I'd rather use them in later fics. I'd rather this one be more like a real episode of the show, in which case while there will very possibly be hints at relationships, I'm not going to shove them in your face. That would be uncomfortable for everyone involved. Especially if taken literally.**

**Maybe I'll end up doing all 3 scenarios, but for now vote for what you want to read, and I'll write the winner first. Thanks in advance!**


	7. The Cheat

**Ok, thanks for the reviews for my little dilemma from last time! Option C is popular, and Drag0nL0rd suggested I go with A first and then C, which sounded interesting, so that's how it's going to go. I'll probably actually end up adding option B as well as a little bridge between the two, but since C pretty much won, I'll spend the most time on that. And I'll be updating a heck of a lot more than I used to (workload permitting!). So finally, enjoy reading, and it would make my day if you would review. Seriously, even if you hate it, I want to know! It's better than no review at all!**

**I still don't own iCarly, and this is still non-profit.**

Carly stood in the hallway for a few moments and let out a deep sigh, before returning to Freddie's apartment.

Freddie, who was sat on the floor with his ideas file, looked up at her and smiled, before taking note of her serious expression.

"She hasn't done any work, has she?" he guessed.

"Nope."

"I figured."

Carly sat on the floor next to him and rested her head in her hands. "I'm going back in half an hour to see if she's written ten sentences."

Freddie snorted.

"Well what am I supposed to do?!" said Carly in exasperation. "She just will not concentrate. It's like her brain is…I don't know…a puppy."

"A puppy?" Freddie looked at her quizzically.

"Yes. It just jumps around going 'FOOD!'…'FUN!'…'INTERNET!'."

"Uh, I don't think puppies generally use the internet."

"They might," Carly said huffily. "How do you know they don't?"

"Lack of thumbs?" Freddie shrugged. "And fingers. And the brain capacity to –"

"Alright, alright. What are you, the simile police?" Carly groaned and lay on the floor.

"Carly, face it, Sam just isn't the schoolwork type. She's not like you and me…" Freddie trailed off as he gazed at her.

"She's not stupid!" Carly snapped, sitting upright and snapping Freddie out of his daze.

"I didn't say that!" he backtracked hurriedly. It's just that she's more…street smart than book smart, that's all."

"Oh. Well…yeah, I guess that's true…but 'street smart' isn't going to get her a decent grade point average, is it?"

"True," Freddie nodded, "but I'm sure she'll figure something out to get out of having to go to military school. There's no way she'd put up with no access to large food portions."

"I guess. I mean, you never know, maybe she's doing her work right now."

********************************************************************************

A smile grew on Sam's face as she typed, her eyes glued to the screen. Why on earth had she not found this shark attack website before?! The stories, the injuries, the _photos_…the webmaster had to be contacted and congratulated immediately, it was a pressing matter above all importance.

Happy with the email she joyfully clicked send and then closed the browser, which unfortunately revealed a Macbeth assignment containing nothing better than 'Macbeth is great'. For Sam this was not only a terrible sentence that Carly would most likely not approve of, but also a complete lie.

She glanced at the clock in the corner of the screen and it mocked her with the fact that already fifteen minutes had passed and she had nothing, and Carly would be back soon and be all _"Sam, I am very disappointed" _over and over, and their entire weekend would be ripped into millions of tiny tartan shreds. No, it couldn't end like that. She promised Carly that she could do the report in one day, and one day it would be.

For a few seconds Sam simply sat in silence, deep in thought, until one of her trademark fiendish grins began to surface like a great white from the bottom of the dark ocean. She told Carly she would do the report, that much was true. But she never said that she would _write_ it.

It was easy to search for 'Middle School Macbeth Paper' on the web and come up with the perfect candidate. Simply copy and paste ten perfect sentences, add a few mistakes here and there to screw them up just enough that Carly would believe she'd written them…._Almost criminally easy_.

Sam admired 'her work' for a moment as she stretched, basking in the computer screen glow of what she decided was a great accomplishment. She saved the rest of the paper for future reference, pressed print, and relaxed

********************************************************************************

"So," Freddie cleared his throat, "so far for tomorrow's show we have; 'The Garbage Can Who Never Grew Up', 'Tales from the Haunted Scratching Post' and 'Today I am a Badger', which means we still need one more segment."

Carly raised an eyebrow. "Freddie, why are you summing everything up as though one of us wasn't here?"

"I…don't know…but do you have anymore ideas?"

"I have an idea, Fredward!" Sam strolled into the room unannounced and let herself fall onto Freddie's couch behind them, "why don't you move to Yugoslavia? I'm sure you'd fit in fine."

Annoyed that, yet again, Sam had ruined his treasured alone time with the girl of his dreams (who, he had been ecstatic to note, was sat on floor so close to him that his senses were lost in the smell of peach and strawberry lip gloss), Freddie scowled. "You don't even know where Yugoslavia is."

"Sure I do."

"Where is it, then?"

"Elsewhere."

"What? Sam, that doesn't even –"

"So, Carly," Sam slid down the couch and sat in between them, purposefully blocking Freddie, "I have done ten of the greatest 'Macbeth' lines ever written in assignment-form, wanna see?" she waved the paper.

"Uh…sure!" Carly was taken off guard by Sam's sudden confidence after her previous pathetic attempt, and took her friend's assignment with some trepidation.

Sam watched as Carly read the page, beaming as Carly's eyes began to widen in surprise at the quality of the work. Freddie sat bemused, his senses now assaulted with waves of coconut cream pie scent from Sam's hair.

Carly read the paper twice before exclaiming, "Sam! Sam, this is…this is high B-grade work!" she said, astounded at the turnaround.

"I know," Sam shrugged as if it was obvious.

"I mean, there's some grammatical errors and you somehow mis-spelled 'Lady', but other than that…oh I'm so proud!" Carly practically knocked Sam into Freddie as she hugged her.

Unimpressed, Freddie scrambled free and grabbed the paper out of Carly's hand to inspect it. He glanced over it with some suspicion, but he knew the trademarks of Sam's work were there: the over-use of exclamation marks, using nouns as verbs…yet the report was impressive, and Freddie nodded his approval.

"Wow Sam, way to go. This isn't bad for a Puckett piece."

Sam wanted to say something clever in response but Carly was still in hug-mode. "Um, Carly? Kinda need oxygen at some point…"

"Oh, sorry!" Carly released her. 'I guess I don't know my own strength nowadays."

"You been using that work-out videogame that Spencer got you?" Freddie inquired, the geek in him scanning for tech-conversation.

"Yeah, don't you think I'm getting toned?"

"Oh yeah!" Freddie replied a little over-enthusiastically.

The two girls looked at him.

"Uh, not that you didn't look great before, or anything, but…oh, y'know…uh, now you look better…not that there needed to be any major improvement! But you have improved…um…"

"Should I throw him a life raft?" Carly giggled to blonde friend.

"Naah, it's fun to watch him drown," Sam decided.

"Um…" Freddie struggled to continue, and Sam rolled her eyes.

"Don't wet yourself, Freddie, Carly has received your compliment through all that gibbering."

"Good…" Freddie sighed in relief, wiping the sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve.

"So, how are you guys doing with the iCarly segments? Is the badger segment in? Should we rehearse?" Sam asked excitedly.

"Well, not to rain on your badger parade, or anything," Carly said delicately, "but so far you've written ten sentences. Which are great and all, but the report is five pages long."

"No problem, it will be done in a matter of minutes," Sam assured her, standing up.

"Minutes?" Freddie narrowed his eyes, sceptical.

Sam froze for a moment. _Keep it together, Puckett. You have to be believable!_ "Did I say minutes? Ha, I wish! I meant hours. I bet I can finish it in oh, say…six hours? Then we can still have time to rehearse and stuff, right?"

"Well, if you're sure you can do it in that time…" Carly said, concerned that it was a small timeframe to work in considering the amount of time she'd spent on her own report.

"Sure I can. I am Sam Puckett!" she announced.

"That's what we're afraid of," Freddie muttered.

Sam picked up Freddie's 'Ideas File', hurled it at Freddie, then left.

"Well. _That_ was unexpected." Carly commented.

"It hurt, too. Blonde demon…" Freddie removed the file from his face and rubbed his cheek.

"I meant Sam…doing work."

"Oh. Yeah. I think that was less 'unexpected' and more on par with the sun beginning to revolve around the moon."

Carly laughed at his comment and scooched closer to him so that she could see the file better. Freddie smelled the strawberry and peach again but the coconut cream pie still lingered in his mind.

**I hope this story will suit all you shippers, even though I'm leaving it open-minded. I pretty much left a treat for all you Seddie/Creddie/Cam people in this chapter, just to make everyone happy!**

**P.S: Review.**

**P.P.S: You know you want to.**


	8. Dominoes

It took Sam just over an hour to copy, paste and alter five pages worth of assignment, which left her five hours of boredom, waiting for Carly and Freddie to return and be proud of her achievement. She had seen all the shark attack shots and read all the stories, and she couldn't think of anything else worth looking at.

She was leaning her head on the counter, half-heartedly poking Gibby on facebook, when Spencer returned from dropping off the Marshmallow Meerkat.

"Hi Sam, how's the report going?" he asked as he juggled the many shopping bags he was carrying.

Sam sat up, wiped the drool from her face and quickly opened her assignment. "Er, good. Really good, actually. Uh, huh, couldn't be better. Carly's at the Benson Cave, in case you were wondering."

"Awesome. Um…could you give me a hand with this stuff before I collapse?"

Sam hopped off her stool and took half of Spencer's bags from him. "What is this stuff? Is it food? Can I have some?" she asked with increasing excitement, trying to rummage through the bags as she carried them to the kitchen.

"Nope, better than food!" Spencer grinned as he placed the brown bags on the counter.

Sam stared at him in anticipation.

"…Dominoes!" he revealed emphatically.

"The pizza?!"

"No, the dominoes," Spencer tipped one of the bags and out poured a waterfall of different coloured dominoes while he grinned at Sam.

Sam blinked and she shook her head. "Well, _that_ was anti-climactic."

"Not when you see the muchos bueno thing I'm going to use them for," he argued, rubbing his hands with glee. "I'm gonna line 'em all up and make loads of cool gadgets and stuff for them to knock down and THEN, at the end, they're gonna spell out !"

"Wow, that sounds cool!"

"YEAH it does!"

"Can I help?"

"Sure!" Spencer nodded as he picked up the spilled dominoes. "But wait…I don't wanna distract you from your education or anything…"

Sam grinned and rushed to the computer, clicking print. "Spencer, my boy, it's ancient history. I'm totally free."

"Really?" Spencer raised an eyebrow.

She looked up at him and smiled sweetly, the picture of innocence, "Really."

"Well OK then. Lets make these dominoes dance!"

Sam and Spencer whooped and cheered as they picked up the bags and rushed upstairs to the studio.

* * *

Later that afternoon Carly came home with Freddie in tow to find the computer screen empty and Sam gone.

"Oh no…she's not doing work!" Carly exclaimed. She'd started to relax when she'd seen Sam's previous first page, but now it occurred to her that her slacker friend had probably written it as a shield so that she didn't have to write the rest. "I can't believe this!"

Freddie raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Well…yeah, I can believe it, but I'm still royally cheesed!"

Sam jogged down the stairs cheerfully. "Hey guys, what's cookin'?"

"You on a spit if you haven't done anymore of your paper yet!" Carly snapped.

"Hey hey hey, chillax, the thing is done. Finito. Now the fun times reign supreme," Sam jumped onto the couch and pointed at the printout, which Carly promptly snatched from the counter and began to read.

"You've finished it?" Freddie asked, astounded. "Wow Sam, that must be some sort of Puckett record."

"Probably," she nodded. "Now seriously, what's cookin'? I could eat a tar covered Buffalo."

"I really really believe that," Freddie wrinkled up his nose.

Carly remained silent as she finished reading before commending her friend. "Sam, I can't believe this! When you put your mind to something properly, you can write amazingly well. I mean this…this is just brilliant!"

"Well yeah…all complete! So…let's get on with our live now, yeah?" Sam stood up, getting quite embarrassed about the praise.

"Don't be so modest Sam, Freddie, check this out," she handed the paper to the tech boy.

Sam began to get irritated, trying to snatch it from him, but he kept it just out of her reach as he read. She sighed in defeat, "Guys it's just boring school junk. Let's go do that web show thing we love so much. C'mon! Random dancing! Scary bra! Milk squirting from places! COME ON!"

"Sam what's the big deal?" Freddie frowned, "Are you ashamed that you've actually done something well for once?"

Sam shot him a cold glare.

"Er, I mean, that you've done something well…you know what I mean!"

"Yeah Sam, be proud of your achievements!" Carly smiled and put an arm around her.

Sam gave her a look.

"Yeah," Carly nodded, "that sounded slightly less dorky in my head."

Spencer came down the stairs so fast he tripped over his own shoes and landed in a heap at the bottom, but he quickly jumped to his feet as though nothing happened.

"IT IS COMPLETE!" he bellowed at the teens.

They stared at him.

"Oh no. Has Spencer actually made a monster out of dead people?" Freddie asked eventually.

"No Freddie, we leave that kind of stuff to the Fronkensteens of the world. Right now, come look!" Spencer ran back upstairs like an excited Labrador.

Sam bounded after him, "To the dominoes!"

"Dominoes?" Carly and Freddie exchanged glances and followed.

They ran to the studio door when Spencer appeared and stopped them in their tracks. "From this point on there will be no running," he said in his best serious voice. "There will be no loud noises, no heavy breathing, and no fan-like devices of any kind. Is this clear?"

"Spencer, what are you babbling about?" Carly asked, trying to see past him.

"He says don't knock over the dominoes!" Sam added as they both revealed the studio, half of which was completely covered with lined up dominoes and all sorts of colourful contraptions to set them off.

"Wow, this is amazing!" said Carly as she padded into the room, careful not to set any of them off.

Spencer smirked and folded his arms. "I know."

"Did you set all this up by yourself?" Freddie asked as he knelt down to study the geekier aspects of the setup.

"With some Puckett Power!" Spencer explained. "At first I thought you guys could set the whole thing off at the end of the show as sort of a cool finale thing, but I think you'll have to do it at the beginning…I'm not sure it has the strength to hold up to Random Dancing."

"True, I would have thought that physics dictates –"

Sam plugged her fingers in her ears, "Uh oh, Freddie's nerd senses are tingling."

He glowered at her, "Well YOU just referenced Spiderman."

"Only because YOU made us watch the movie about a bazillion times."

Voices were gaining volume and Carly became agitated. "Children! Please, think of the dominoes!"

"Yes, I forgot to factor in a Sam and Freddie fight into my domino risk assessment," Spencer muttered. "Anyway, have a good show you guys!" he turned to leave.

"Wait," Sam momentarily stopped her pen war with Freddie, "don't you want to be the one to tip the dominoes?"

"Naah, I just wanna watch from downstairs in high definition! Besides, you spent all day writing your paper AND helping out, I think you should have the honour." He smiled and tiptoed out of the room and back downstairs.

Freddie glanced at his Galaxy Wars watch and started to panic. "Almost time, you guys, you better get into position. In 5-4-3-2…"


End file.
